


If You Don't Quit Running That Mouth of Yours...

by orchidlocked



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Clandestine Fucking (Good Omens), Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has A Filthy Mouth (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has Two Penises (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Is Hot For It (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Frottage, M/M, Massage, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Other, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Scent Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Switch Aziraphale (Good Omens), Switch Crowley (Good Omens), The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Unrepentant Filth, Vaginal Fingering, Weird Biology, Weird anatomy, frivolous use of miracles, switch rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-10-14 07:56:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20597354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchidlocked/pseuds/orchidlocked
Summary: Aziraphale's got a filthy mouth. He likes using it to make Crowley finish too soon. 5 times it worked + 1 bonus.





	1. Rome, 235 AD

**Author's Note:**

> *chanting* switch rights switch rights switch rights. Exactly what it says on the box. This is just going to be a lot of shameless smut. *hides* I'm stressed and the idea wouldn't let me go. Wrote about half of this at the bank today lmao

It had been a while since Aziraphale had been in this exact bathhouse; he certainly hoped he'd be getting up to the same type of thing that had happened the last time. He’d reserved a private room with two stone tables for massage; he only did this when...

“He-_llo_, Aziraphale,” Crowley said in a familiar sing-song voice. He strutted into the room, a swirl of black and dark grey robes, his copper hair slightly longer than the last time Aziraphale had seen him. The angel’s stomach fluttered as he took in the sight of him.

“Good evening, Crowley,” Aziraphale said nonchalantly. Oh, he was aching for it, but he loved this part of the ritual.

“What’s with all this civil war and assassination business?” Crowley asked as he climbed on the table and laid face down.

Aziraphale scoffed. “I’m not sure why you’d be asking me, this is your side’s doing, after all.”

“Oh, rubbish,” Crowley groaned. He put his head down and let out a sigh as the masseuse poured warm oil over his back. Aziraphale stole a glance at Crowley’s sinewy form before flipping over and situating himself on his table. The attendants began working them over, and with the exception of an occasional satisfied exhale, a silence settled over the room until Crowley’s attendant asked him to turn over. Aziraphale turned on his side and looked over as Crowley waved off his masseuse.

“No, no, all right, we’re all right,” Crowley pulled his attendant’s hand out from under his robe; no need for that sort of excitement so early in the evening, especially not when one particularly fascinating angel was lying on the next table over in a similar state of undress.

“No _joyous release_ for you today, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked. The angel was propped up on his elbows, with his robe draped over the lower half of his body, and he’d already sent his attendant off. Crowley pulled out a few coins from the pouch around his neck and handed them to the masseuse before he left. Crowley waited to hear the door close, then tossed his robes onto the floor and stood beside Aziraphale’s table. He let his sunglasses drift down his nose and looked down into Aziraphale’s eyes.

“I was hoping you might want to be a part of that, Angel,” Crowley said, his yellow eyes sparkling.

“Oh, well, in that case.” Aziraphale paused and wiggled a bit on the table. Crowley knew that wiggle; he loved it. “When you put it like that, dear, I can hardly refuse.” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hips as the demon climbed onto the table and straddled him. They were both oiled up, and Crowley slid back and forth across Aziraphale's legs a bit before taking himself in hand. 

“Do you want this?” Crowley asked, rubbing the head of his oil-slicked cock over Aziraphale’s thigh.

“Oh, yes,” Aziraphale’s head was tossed back, the way he always did when they were like this. He exposed his throat and remained still so Crowley could mark it up with the edges of his fangs, letting out soft cries of delight as he felt the slight burn of tiny punctures working up and down his neck.

“Say it again.” Crowley brought his hand up underneath Aziraphale’s jaw.

“I want it.”

“It? You want 'it'? Any old thing will do?”

“_Crowley_,” Aziraphale said exasperatedly. Crowley said nothing, just cocked his head and let the corner of his mouth wander up into a smirk. He knew the angel liked to play these games and loved to pretend he didn’t… “I want you, Crowley. All of you,” Aziraphale finally said. Crowley, wicked thing that he was, grinned and pushed Aziraphale’s robe onto the floor. He reached in between the angel’s thighs to feel the blank canvas of soft skin there; he lightly scraped his fingernails over it and Aziraphale shivered as though he’d touched something quite sensitive.

“Then give me something, Angel.” Crowley nipped into the soft flesh at the junction of Aziraphale’s neck and shoulder. “However you want it,” he said, then bit back the rest of the words that threatened to spill out.

“But, Crowley, I can’t _decide_,” Aziraphale pouted. “Do I want you to rub yours up against mine like this?” he asked, grabbing Crowley’s cock in his hand and pushing it between his thighs. Crowley hissed at the sensation of being enveloped in Aziraphale’s plush softness. “Or do I want you inside me? And if I do, then how?”

“Anytime now, Angel,” Crowley muttered as he began to rut between Aziraphale’s thighs, slick with scented oil.

“Perhaps I want you first in my mouth, so I can lick and suck you entirely clean,” Aziraphale’s eyes were glinting. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to feast upon you as the delicacy you are? Suck all your seed out of you as you watch me drink it down.” Crowley moaned and sank his fingers into Aziraphale’s hips hard enough to leave bruises. “You taste delicious, you know.” Aziraphale had the audacity to raise his eyebrows.

“Angel, if you want me to last, you’d better stop,” Crowley warned.

“Stop what?” Aziraphale rubbed his thumbs over Crowley’s iliac crests.

Crowley bit his lip and steadied his weight on his arms. “You _know_ what,” he said before resuming pushing his length in between the slick warmth of Aziraphale’s thighs. He could probably come just like this, he realized, and with that, Crowley slowed down and took a deep breath.

“Or maybe I’d like you to open me slowly with your fingers. Your long, dextrous, _skilled_ fingers,” Aziraphale added. “You’re so good at that.”

Crowley felt himself approaching the point of no return and slowed his hips; as he went to pull his cock out from between Aziraphale’s thighs, the angel sighed dramatically and continued running his mouth, that filthy mouth of his that always got Crowley into the most delicious kind of trouble: “Do you remember the last time we did this, dear boy? You were able to hold out a bit longer then; you and that cock of yours had me calling out your name for hours, you did. You worked me like you were - _ah!_ \- like you were plowing a _field_." Aziraphale heard the clack of Crowley clicking his teeth together, and continued. "I couldn't sit properly for days. Oh, that was glorious. Let myself stay like that for as long as I could. Put my fingers inside a few days later and could still taste you there, darling.”

Crowley was on the edge of spilling over; he stopped moving and looked Aziraphale directly in the eyes. “Angel...” No sooner had he finished his warning, than said angel let out an absolutely indecent moan, a sound with ulterior motives. And that was it for Crowley, who shuddered and pushed forward once, twice, and then spilled hot between Aziraphale’s thighs. “You -" was all the demon could get out as his vision went white and his ears started ringing. Aziraphale tutted and reached his hand under his thigh. Crowley rocked back and steadied himself. "You and your _mouth_," he hissed.

“Oh, Crowley, goodness.” Aziraphale’s voice was still prim and proper – how the devil was he so put together? “I had hoped you would finish inside me,” he said, running two fingers along his newly manifested Effort, a plump, beautiful vulva with downy white hair and a large, red, erect clit peeking out. Crowley groaned. “Is it to your liking?” Aziraphale asked as he spread himself open, showing off for Crowley, who was still trembling a bit.

“I ought to just leave you like this,” he snarled, running a finger up into Aziraphale’s soft, warm folds. “Soaking wet, wanting it. Ought to just leave right now.” Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s face in his hand and attempted to look angry, maybe even threatening; he knew he’d failed when Aziraphale’s mouth turned up into a familiar playful smile.

“You_ wouldn’t_...” Aziraphale taunted. Crowley looked at his face to see the angel’s bottom lip stuck out and… was he batting his eyelashes?

Crowley couldn't help but chuckle. “You’re right,” he said as he pinned Aziraphale’s wrists to the table. “I wouldn’t dare.”


	2. Kingdom of Wessex, 879 AD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale meet in the days when the Vikings are invading the Kingdom of Wessex, etc. New tags, the same PWP you've come to know and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm close to done with the next chapter of my long slow burn so don't get anxious lmao. love y'all

“For my money, the Vikings have ended up with a bit of a bad rap, Angel,” Crowley said, gulping down his third goblet full of wine. “Most of the guys I've been with for the past while are, well, they're a lot less violent than I expected them to be. Loads of drugs and weird shit, but whatever. It could always be worse.”

Aziraphale, who was now serving as an advisor to King Ælfred (The Great), rolled his eyes and adjusted the edge of his robe. “Leave it to your side to call all the pillaging and invading 'not that bad.' You haven't been here for the truly wretched happenings.” He refilled his goblet with wine, then offered it to Crowley. “Besides, now that Guthrum has been converted, I'm hoping things settle down a bit around here.”

Crowley scoffed. “Well, you certainly got the better deal out of this time period. Getting to stay in here,” he gestured to Aziraphale's rather expansive quarters, “sitting pretty on land, rather than all the_ fucking_ sailing. If I have to sing one more song about the majestic sea, I might head back to Hell of my own accord.”

Aziraphale let out a small sigh. “I'm certain it's not any worse than your previous assignments.”

“And don't get me started on the bloody armor,” Crowley said, gesturing to his helmet and other implements sitting near the door. He was still wearing a chain mail shirt and his lamellar armor; the metal plates arranged in horizontal rows resembled his belly as he'd presented in Eden, Aziraphale thought, as he took in the sight of Crowley slouching in his chair with a leg slung over the armrest.

“You could always take it off, dear.” Aziraphale cocked his head and dragged his eyes up and down Crowley's body. Crowley stood, taking Aziraphale's suggestion for what it was: an order.

He removed his armor piece by piece, cursing and hissing at every step. The sensitive skin on the underside of his arm got pinched in between some chain mail, and he bit his lip to keep from screaming. He could quickly miracle the rapidly forming bruise away once he was out of these goddamn ridiculous layers. Crowley slung the plates covering his thighs into the corner. Aziraphale locked eyes with him while removing his own robe, tunic, then trousers; Crowley felt his face beginning to flush.

“With all this cold and damp, you’d think I wouldn’t be sweating this fucking much,” Crowley said awkwardly as he lifted up his tunic over his head. He fidgeted with the laces of his skin-tight leather trousers and looked over at Aziraphale, who was now fully disrobed in his chair.

“Oh, those too, dear,” Aziraphale pursed his lips just so. “If you don't mind.” Crowley did not mind.

When he finally started to work his leather trousers down off his body, he noticed a not-insignificant amount of slick coating the inside where they had been pressed against him. Never took much for Aziraphale to get him all worked up.

Aziraphale looked down at the junction of Crowley’s thighs to see the vee of his red hair instead of, well... and Crowley caught the surprised expression on his face. Ahh. The angel hadn’t expected Crowley to be sporting this sort of Effort for their rendezvous. Crowley cleated his throat and offered an explanation. “Nearly discorporated myself a few years ago. A different sort of, uh, _appendage_ down there doesn’t really mix too well with the whole ‘suit of armor’ thing.” Aziraphale threw his head back and laughed, spilling a bit of wine in the process. “I can change it if you want,” Crowley added quickly.

“It's perfect. Variety is the spice of life, dearest. I know you’d be happy to stuff me full at any end, any way I want, at any time. Why not mix it up a bit?” Crowley had his goblet of wine halfway to his mouth and had the sense to pause before taking a sip of anything. “Give me those,” Aziraphale said, pointing to the trousers on the floor that had previously been wrapped around Crowley’s thighs.

“Give you what?”

“I_ said_, give me those,” Aziraphale snapped, and the trousers flew from the floor into his outstretched hand.

“What do you want with-” Crowley’s eyes went wide as he watched Aziraphale flip them inside out. Then the angel inhaled deeply and began licking up Crowley's slick from the center of the trousers. The demon dropped his goblet and spilled red wine all over the deer hide rug. Aziraphale met his eyes as he held up the leather to show off his work; Crowley could see the marks of the sweat from his thighs still around the edges, but Aziraphale had somehow managed to suck the crotch of them completely dry. Crowley moaned and fell to his knees.

“Angel, your _mouth_...”

“Next time you’ve got one of those, save these for me, will you?” Aziraphale asked, completely unfazed, waving Crowley’s trousers around like a victory banner, then tossing them over the back of his chair. “Delectable. An utter delight.” Aziraphale closed his eyes and loudly licked his lips as Crowley’s hands began to shake. He gently worked his fingers between Aziraphale’s thighs. The angel readily spread his legs for Crowley; once close to Aziraphale he could see that the angel had a beautiful red nub at the top of his vulva, slightly larger than a clitoris, with a perfectly formed small head. Crowley reached out and gently took it between his fingers, working the shaft up and down, excitedly watching it grow a bit larger beneath his ministrations.

“Do you like it, darling?” Aziraphale asked. “Been experimenting a bit lately.” Crowley responded by putting his mouth overtop the head of Aziraphale’s clit and sucking gently, tasting the familiar floral tang of his slick. Oh, how he’d missed this. The angel moaned and sank both his hands into Crowley’s hair, pushing him further down. Crowley smiled to himself as he let his tongue start to do all the weird things Aziraphale loved so much.

“Ahh!” Aziraphale nearly kneed Crowley in the jaw as the demon’s broad, forked tongue began delving deep between his folds.

“Okay?” Crowley asked.

“Don’t you even think about stopping,” Aziraphale said. “That wicked tongue of yours. Oh, I dream about it. Deeper, please. Explore me, dear. I want to feel you in my _throat_. Or – wait. Can your tongue be in two places at once? That might satisfy me more – _oh!_ \- more fully.” Crowley coughed a bit; Aziraphale’s unparalleled dirty talk had a way of completely unmooring him.

“Haven't met a single warrior with a mouth as filthy as yours, Angel. Not a one,” he said against Aziraphale’s thigh.

Aziraphale huffed a bit. “I imagine you haven't, dear boy. I've had quite a lot of extra time to practice, you know.” Crowley let his tongue slip back between his teeth for a moment, the smell and taste of Aziraphale blending together in a way that could only be described as _holy_. “Well?” the angel tapped Crowley on the back of the head, and he immediately put his tongue back where it had been, eliciting a glorious moan from Aziraphale.

Crowley felt the lips of his own vulva slide together as he adjusted his position a bit; he reached down with his other hand to feel. Unsurprisingly, he was sopping wet, but he hadn’t expected to be so close to an orgasm himself. He quickly took his hand off himself and brought it back up to where it had been on Aziraphale’s thigh without thinking; the angel immediately noticed the dampness on Crowley’s fingers and pulled his hand up. Crowley watched as Aziraphale gently moved his wet fingers apart and stared at the strand of slick suspended between them.

“Were you planning on sharing?” Aziraphale asked. He took Crowley’s fingers in his mouth and sucked on them as he rolled his hips upwards against the demon’s face.

“Anything,” Crowley muttered against Aziraphale’s outer lips. He was holding Crowley's head firmly in place as Crowley kept running the forks of his tongue up over the shaft of Aziraphale's oversized clit, around the head, back down along the edges of his vulva, then deep inside him in the places he wanted. Aziraphale was close, Crowley knew it from the way he smelled, from the specific tremble in his inner thighs. After one particularly ecstatic cry from the angel, Crowley felt a trail of his own slick leaking down his leg onto the floor. Fuck, he was also close, just a little friction and he could also...

Crowley changed position slightly and pressed against Aziraphale's shin; there it was. Aziraphale was clutching thick handfuls of Crowley's hair as the demon did his best to rub himself discreetly against Aziraphale's leg. Just as Crowley felt all the pressure building within him, Aziraphale began to Crowley was certain he couldn't handle much more and reached his hand down to circle his own clit as he put his lips around the head of Aziraphale's and sucked gently but firmly, causing his angel to cry out at the top of his lungs. “Crowley, Crowley, Crowley, my _Lord_, Crowley, please don't stop, suck me – ahh! - just like that.” He yanked Crowley's hair with both hands and the combination sent Crowley over the edge; he came with the slightest amount of pressure on his clit, listening and _feeling_ Aziraphale's sounds of pleasure resonate through his body. Crowley felt a bit dizzy and briefly went still with his tongue lodged deep inside Aziraphale. He only moved when the angel began to slowly untangle his fingers from Crowley's scalp.

“Fuck, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. “Absolutely sinful, that tongue of yours. Positively evil.” Crowley pulled his face from between Aziraphale's thighs and inhaled the scent of him; it was always different after he'd come, a bit more sweetness mixed in with the floral aroma. “Everything I've ever wanted,” Aziraphale added breathlessly as he motioned for Crowley to come closer.

Still a bit unsteady on his legs, Crowley let Aziraphale take him onto his lap. The angel put his hand on the back of Crowley's neck and pulled him close; just as Crowley thought Aziraphale was about to kiss him, he licked the entire lower half of Crowley's face.

“Can't let it all go to waste,” Aziraphale said. “This was your doing, you know.” He thrust his tongue into Crowley's mouth and the demon tasted the dizzying combination of Aziraphale's slick mixed with his own aroma. “I like you knowing what a_ mess_ you always make of me.” Aziraphale reached his hand between Crowley's legs and brushed a finger over Crowley's overstimulated clit. He shrieked and grabbed Aziraphale’s wrist from where it was between his thighs.

“Christ! Careful down there!” Crowley cried out. He wished he hadn't come just a few minutes ago.

“No need to bring him into it!”

“Fine but - ah,” Crowley tossed his head back, his red hair flying everywhere. “Just – just give me a blasted minute.”

“You don’t... do you want me to touch you?” Aziraphale asked gently, lacing his fingers across Crowley’s lower back.

“I do, I just-” why was it embarrassing to admit? It wasn’t like this thing had a refractory period, “- it’s sensitive after I’ve. You know.” Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel's neck and slowly brought his eyes up to meet Aziraphale’s.

“Did you come already, dear?” He nodded, and Aziraphale laughed. “Well, isn’t that lovely. You know, I was able to make you come six times in a single night the last time you let me indulge my, mmm, oral fixation.” He was quite familiar with the hungry look on the angel’s face.

“Yeah, all right, I remember that.” Crowley had cried after the third. And the fourth. Then he’d switched to wailing and trembling uncontrollably for the fifth and sixth.

“What say you, demon? Shall I attempt to conquer your wicked wiles with only my fingers and mouth as my _weapons_?” Aziraphale’s eyes were glinting, and Crowley got the feeling they might break their previous record tonight.

“Ngk,” was all Crowley could get out as Aziraphale slowly sunk his fingers into the warm, wet place between his legs.


	3. The Bookshop, London, 1850

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of the same PWP... getting filthier as time goes on. With some fun miscommunications.

“Did you have a nice time today?” Aziraphale asked as he poured Crowley a generous glass of wine. Crowley groaned as he kicked his boots off and slouched down in his usual spot on the sofa.

“Yeah, great,” Crowley said.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“It was nice! I don't know what else you want me to say. Just sort of odd for me to, you know...” Crowley trailed off.

“I used a minor miracle to get us some uninterrupted time in the world's first reptile house! I thought you would enjoy it!” Aziraphale said indignantly.

“Wha – buhhh – I, I did, Angel, I _did_ enjoy it. I always enjoy our _time_ together,” Crowley said, “It's – I just don't like seeing them all in... cages like that. Gives me the chills.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“What if I'm just out some day as a snake, minding my own business, and someone snatches me up and puts me in a bloody cage?” Crowley scowled. He took his sunglasses off and set them on the side table.

“Well, my dear, you can work endless magic, you could easily-”

“I know that Angel, I could get out of it, but. I don't know. Doesn't feel right to me.” Crowley drained the last of his wine and held it out for a refill.

Aziraphale dragged his eyes up and down Crowley's body. “Do you still spend time as a serpent in this modern age?”

“Ehh, sometimes. Can't beat a good nap in the sun. Or underneath the radiator.”

Aziraphale shot Crowley a mischievous look. “What else do you get up to when you're in your um, original form?”

“Mmmmmph,” Crowley mumbled, then shrugged. “Not much, really. Lots of lazing about.”

“Have you ever done anything-” Aziraphale scooted over a bit closer to Crowley and lowered his voice, “-_scandalous_ while presenting as a snake?”

Crowley gave Aziraphale a puzzled look. “I thought being the Serpent of Eden and tempting all of humanity into original sin was pretty outrageous.”

“Hmm.” The angel sidled up next to Crowley and ran a hand up his black velvet trousers. “That's not exactly what I meant. I was talking more about experiences of a... _sensual_ nature.”  
  
Crowley's jaw dropped as he put it all together. “Oh. Oh. No. No,” He said firmly. “Absolutely not.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale plastered an almost-convincing scandalized look on his face. “You don't even know what I was going to ask!”

“I have a pretty good idea,” Crowley spat out. “I'm not going to turn into a giant snake and-”

“Ooh.” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “Have I told you lately how much I love that mind of yours? Perhaps we can revisit that concept at another time.”

Crowley scoffed. “Angel-”

“I've learned quite a bit over the years about the ah, anatomy of a typical snake. A typical male snake, and I thought maybe you'd... indulge me,” said Aziraphale, batting his eyelashes.

Crowley barked out a laugh. “You dragged me all the way to the reptile house to set up this conversation?”

Aziraphale pouted, stuck his lower lip out and all, and gave Crowley the specific pleading look he gave when he wanted Crowley to service one of his many needs. “Please, Crowley?”

“Oh, Angel. You absolute brat. You utterly spoiled thing.” He sighed dramatically. “Can't blame anyone but myself though. I've spoilt you and now you're rotten all the way through,” Crowley growled as he pulled Aziraphale over onto his lap.

“Come now, Crowley, I'm not spoiled, you're just the only one who's able to meet all of my needs and desires,” Aziraphale purred as he wiggled over Crowley's thighs. He kissed Crowley tenderly with his perfect plush lips, then exposed his neck so Crowley could lick and suck a trail down to his collarbone.

“Are you sure you want this, though?” Crowley asked gently. “We've never-”

“I'm absolutely sure I want it, darling, I'm absolutely starving for your cock as it is and the thought of having two of them inside me is making me... mmm.” Aziraphale moved his hips in a slow circle and Crowley laid his head against the angel's chest. “My dear, would you mind terribly if I removed our clothes?”

“Anything you want, Angel.” Crowley inhaled and suddenly they were skin to skin, Aziraphale's warm, soft stomach against Crowley's freckled torso. After a moment, he hopped off Crowley's lap and knelt between his legs on the floor, staring intensely at Crowley's anatomical feat(s) du jour.

“You're remarkable, you know that?” the angel asked. “Just remarkable. Very soon, both of these absolutely beautiful Efforts are going to be filling me right up and I, for one, can't fucking wait.” Aziraphale took both his hands and began stroking Crowley's cocks, starting first with simple movements and then alternating direction. He paused for a moment to make a dramatic show of sticking both thumbs in his mouth and moistening them, then rubbing them in slow circles over the heads, working all of Crowley until he was leaking all over Aziraphale's hands and the sofa.

“Oh my –” Crowley covered his face briefly with his hands, too overwhelmed with sensation to do anything but writhe and let out a few jagged breaths. Aziraphale licked his lip and decided to put his mouth to good use.

“Do you know how long I've wanted to ask you for this? I've spent many a night with my fingers, or whatever was handy, deep inside myself thinking of taking so much of you inside of me. My dear, I have been waiting for ages, and I have to say you have already exceeded my expectations.”

Crowley took his hands off his eyes and looked down at the absolutely ravenous angel kneeling in front of him. “Happy to – ah! - be of service,” he hissed as Aziraphale licked a long, sloppy path up the inside of his right thigh, then swirled his tongue over the head of Crowley's right cock.

“Think of all the possibilities,” Aziraphale said, moving over to give Crowley's other side some attention. “I could ride one while stroking off the other, I could feel you spilling inside of me and over my hand at the same time.”

“Aziraphale, you know what happens when you talk to me like that,” Crowley warned.

“Like what? You don't want me to tell you how I'm going to open myself up for you to watch, to make sure I can take all of you at once?” Aziraphale moved in a bit closer and pressed his torso against Crowley's cocks; he placed his hands on the outside of his chest and pressed inwards to make a bit of a crease for Crowley to thrust against. It was a bit awkward due to the outward facing angles of Crowley's anatomy but Aziraphale was touching him so enthusiastically, Crowley was already seeing stars. He had no idea why Aziraphale hadn't thought of this before, or how the angel's chest was suddenly so slippery, but he didn't care. He sucked in a breath and tried to focus on something, anything that could help him hold out a bit longer.

“Angel, oh -”

“I'm going to see if I can do something, Crowley. Something I've always wanted to do.” Aziraphale rocked back on his knees and took the head of Crowley's left cock into his mouth and then... was he... surely he wasn't going to try to... Crowley felt a bit of a stretch as Aziraphale jammed the head of Crowley's other cock in his mouth and let out a low sound of enjoyment that the demon only heard when Aziraphale was eating something he really, truly loved. That, combined with the vibrations of Aziraphale's indecent vocalizations, threatened to make him come before he'd even gotten a chance to grant Aziraphale's many requests.

“Shit, Angel, oh, I'm-” Crowley was panting and shaking. He quickly pulled out from Aziraphale's mouth. “I'm not gonna last if you-”

“You're not going to let me finish my dessert?” Aziraphale asked, eyes wide.

“Dammit-” Crowley's legs were trembling as Aziraphale stuffed both of Crowley's cocks back into his mouth. The warmth, the feel of Aziraphale's tongue against him, the way the angel's cheeks were puffed out from being so full, but mostly the ecstatic look on Aziraphale's face pushed him to the point of no return. “Angel, watch out,” Crowley muttered; he was doing his best to hold himself back, since Aziraphale had been quite insistent about what he wanted. He again tried to pull out, but that wasn't what Aziraphale wanted; the angel shot him a glare and held Crowley firmly in place as he spilled once, then twice down Aziraphale's throat. Crowley screamed Aziraphale's name, locked eyes with the angel, and then promptly blacked out.

* * *

“Crowley? Crowley?”

“Unnnnnnf,” Crowley groaned. He opened his eyes slowly. Aziraphale was straddling him; the angel was running his hands gently over Crowley's chest. “How'd I end up on the floor?”

“Well, my dear, I think I sucked the life right out of you,” Aziraphale said matter-of-factly.  
  
“Sucked something out of me, that's for sure.”

They were both still naked, and Crowley pulled Aziraphale down to kiss him. “Can you taste yourself all over my face? You are absolutely delectable. A treat, really.”

“Uhhh...” Aziraphale cut him off by slipping his tongue inside Crowley's mouth.

“I like smelling you on me, so it will stay,” the angel said.

“Whatever you want. You're so warm.” Crowley wrapped his arms tighter around Aziraphale.

“You like it? I made myself a bit warmer for you. You're always going on about how cold it is.” Aziraphale was now covering Crowley's entire body with his.

“That's quite _kind_ of you, Angel.” Crowley tried to make it sound like an insult, but Aziraphale heard the fondness underneath.

He let out a heavy sigh. “I regret to inform you my motives are not quite pure of heart. I thought keeping you nice and warm might make it easier for me to keep you here all night and have my wicked way with you.”

Crowley burst out into raucous laughter. “Is that what you thought, Angel?”

“Perhaps,” Aziraphale said as he sat up. He shifted his body and Crowley could feel the angel's warm slick all over his abdomen.

Crowley winked at Aziraphale and pushed his hips down just a bit further, lining them up with his own. “Well. You thought right.”

“I usually do.”


	4. the streets of Marylebone, London, 10 May 1945

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley run into each other on the street after the end of the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the lovely comments and bearing with my attention span which is the size of a goldfish's

Aziraphale was walking through the streets of London with a couple thousand other people, celebrating the end of the horrible, awful war that had continued on for far too long and caused so much misery. He was wandering aimlessly along with everyone else when he saw a familiar silhouette approaching him. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale greeted the demon with a smile that could have powered the entire city.

“It's over,” Crowley said. “It's finally over.” Aziraphale wasn't sure it was possible for Crowley to look thinner, but he did; he looked gaunt, exhausted, weary, like so many humans had for the duration of this long and horrid decade. 

“Yes, it's finally over.” Aziraphale said. Before he could get another word out, Crowley wrapped a serpentine arm around him, yanked him out onto the curb, and kissed him. Aziraphale was so shocked, he couldn't do much but let out a squeaking sound and flail his arms around as Crowley kissed him like it was their last day on earth. 

Eventually Crowley pulled away and pushed his sunglasses down just a touch so he could look in Aziraphale's eyes. “I'm sorry,” he said, looking ashamed. “Was that okay? I'm sorry if I – I got carried-”

Aziraphale responded by taking Crowley by the lapels and pushing him up against the front of a closed storefront. “Yes,” he said breathlessly. Aziraphale closed his eyes as Crowley placed his hands on his face; he expected to feel the demon's lips upon his immediately, but instead Crowley had taken his fingers and was delicately tracing the lines of Aziraphale's chin, his cheekbones, even his nose. Aziraphale opened his eyes to see Crowley staring at him with a fierce intensity, the demon's yellow eyes looking a bit shinier than normal. 

Crowley looked away once Aziraphale made eye contact. “I thought I might not see you again,” he mumbled into Aziraphale's shoulder. 

“Here I am,” Aziraphale said tenderly. He gazed at the edge of Crowley's jawline, the sharp haircut, the tailored suit, taking it all in. The angel had been so shaken up by what happened the last time they'd seen each other, he hadn't noticed all the delightful ways Crowley was keeping up with fashion. 

“You look wonderful, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, fussing with the pocket of Crowley's jacket. 

Crowle tilted his head up and the angel noticed the slightest hint of a smile forming on his face. “Not looking so bad yourself, Angel.”

“You know, dear, I never did thank you properly for the daring rescue last year.”

Crowley cocked his head. “That was three years ago, Aziraphale.” 

“Oh, goodness. I guess I've absolutely lost all track of time.” Aziraphale tilted his head downwards, directed his eyes to the ground, and then slowly back up; it was an absolutely calculated look that always worked in Aziraphale's favor.

“Come here,” Crowley said, grabbing Aziraphale's hand and leading them down an alley. 

“Oh, Crowley!” Aziraphale said his name the way he usually did when Crowley was buried deep inside of him, and the demon noticed. Crowley found a doorway that offered a bit of privacy and pinned Aziraphale against the wall perpendicular to the door. 

“It has been far too long.” Crowley started undoing the buttons of Aziraphale's waistcoat, then his shirt, then worked his way down to the angel's trousers only to be stopped by Aziraphale's eager hands working them open. 

“Make -” with all the heightened emotion between them, Aziraphale almost said something far too personal, and quickly redirected himself, “make me feel good, Crowley, please.” 

“I can do that,” Crowley said, putting his arms around Aziraphale's lower back and rolling his hips forward against the angel's. “You want me to make you feel good?” he whispered into Aziraphale's ear. 

“Oh, please, Crowley, please,” Aziraphale said, tossing his head back. “Give me a few love bites, won't you,” he half asked, half ordered. Crowley concentrated and in a moment, he had a small set of fangs, just enough to leave neat little paired punctures down Aziraphale's neck and collarbones. In between gasps of pleasure, the angel unbuckled Crowley's belt with one hand and freed his cock from his tight trousers and pants, touching him with the ease of someone who'd done it a thousand times before. 

“Fuck, that feels good,” Crowley said as Aziraphale gripped his cock firmly and stroked the full length of him with his smooth hands, quickly getting him harder than he'd been in, oh, about a hundred years. “Oh – for somebody's sake.” He worked his jacket off and tossed it on the ground. “What have you got down there this time?” Crowley asked, reaching his hand down the front of Aziraphale's trousers to feel a soft pile of curly hair atop a delightfully plush cunt. He moaned as he felt Aziraphale's warmth and slick between his fingers. An impatient Aziraphale pushed his trousers down and stepped out of them using what must have been a frivolous miracle. Crowley raised his eyebrow at the angel. 

“Give me those,” Aziraphale demanded, removing Crowley's sunglasses and tossing them on top of the pile of clothing on the ground. Crowley reached two fingers into Aziraphale's warmth and then up in a gentle circle over his clit. 

“Does that feel good, Angel?” Crowley asked. It did feel amazing, but Aziraphale wanted something a bit different.He propped his leg up against the magically locked door to allow Crowley better access. 

“Please, I want you now,” Aziraphale pouted. “I'm plenty wet. Please, Crowley.” 

“I could never deny you a thing.” Crowley took the head of his cock and ran it along the folds of Aziraphale's labia just enough to get slicked up. “You feel so good.” 

“Crowley, please, I'm – I'm beyond ready.”

Crowley sighed, and for a moment Aziraphale thought he was going to be truly cruel and make him wait even longer. Then, in a single fluid motion, the demon managed to grab him by the thighs, hoist him up against the wall, and sink his cock all the way into Aziraphale. 

“Oh, god, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. It was a good thing he wasn't standing or else his knees would have given way. 

Crowley kissed him fiercely and bit the corner of Aziraphale's lip. “That what you want?” 

Aziraphale yelped, then nodded. “Yes, yes!” 

“All right.” Crowley slid out of Aziraphale just enough for the head of his cock to catch at the entrance of Aziraphale's cunt, just the way he knew the angel liked it, and then pressed slowly back in. 

“You remembered,” Aziraphale said as Crowley repeated the motion several times, circling his hips to alter the sensations for him. 

“Course I did.” Crowley fixed his eyes on Aziraphale's as he pushed in again, and the angel felt something fluttering in his chest at the intimacy of it all. 

“Maybe I should try out your new name while you're fucking me, Anthony,” Aziraphale said into Crowley's ear. 

“Whatever you like,” said Crowley, slowly picking up the speed of his thrusts. 

“Anthony, Anthony, oh, Anthony.” Aziraphale kept repeating his name like he was trying to memorize it. “Anthony, I think I like it, Anthony, yes, yes,” he said, his syllables interrupted by Crowley’s cock sinking into him again, and again, and again. 

“That’s good, Angel,” Crowley said, gripping Aziraphale’s thighs with force as he fucked him into the wall. The angel felt his sensitive skin getting roughed up against the brick and he clutched tighter to Crowley for support. 

“Oh, yes, Anthony, give it to me, please,” Aziraphale panted; Crowley looked up to see his angel starting to break a sweat and he felt quite proud. 

“Anything,” Crowley said, shifting his motions upward just a bit, to try to hit Aziraphale’s g-spot; he felt the angel clench around him the moment he got the angle right. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale cried out loudly, and Crowley felt the angel's fingernails leaving tracks down his back. “Oh, darling, yes! I’ve missed you so, you’ve been - ahh! - gone for so long and no one can, no one can-”

Crowley stopped thrusting and brought his face so close to Aziraphale’s that their noses touched. “No one can what?” he asked, fixing his yellow eyes on Aziraphale's. 

“No one else can, can-” Aziraphale sputtered. 

“Oh, so you’ve been doing this a lot then lately, have you? Needed a lot of it, did you?” Crowley pulled his cock almost all the way out of Aziraphale and slowly, so slowly, pushed forward. Aziraphale squirmed and moaned. 

“Please,” he begged. “You were gone for so long, and you have no idea what I had to do this whole time!”

“I bet I do,” Crowley said, fucking right back into Aziraphale with a particularly sharp thrust, absolutely burying himself inside the angel, who threw his head back and wailed. “You got up to a lot of fun then, did you? Naughty, spoilt angel, you are. Shouldn't even let you have this.” Crowley switched his grip up on Aziraphale's thighs a bit and inadvertently jostled him into a better position, judging by the positively sinful, guttural noise Aziraphale let out. 

“Please, Crowley, please, give it to me, please give it to me,” Aziraphale was begging and crying now, tears streaming down his cheeks. Crowley could feel the crescent shapes of the angel's fingernails leaving deep indentations on his back and it went straight to his cock; he felt like he was ready to explode at any minute. “Give it to me, give it to me,” he said over and over, switching up the name he called Crowley and somehow managing to change the inflection slightly with every repetition. 

“Angel, dammit, you can't just say things like that,” Crowley panted against Aziraphale's neck. “Don't you want to – don't you want me to make you come first?”

“Anthony,” Aziraphale moaned, “can't you tell I'm already so close? Just – please, I need, oh!” Crowley kept his steady pace up and, less than a minute later, Aziraphale was shuddering and coming all over Crowley's delightful cock. 

“You, good, you feel so good,” Crowley was to the point of mostly just letting out incoherent sounds and handfuls of words here and there. While his head was still buzzing, Aziraphale felt Crowley slip into the rhythm that meant he was close, and the angel decided to open up his mouth and let it all out.

“Give, give, give it, god, give it to me, please, give it to me,” Aziraphale cried out, ratcheting up the volume as he went on; somewhere along the way, Crowley lost what little control he had left and Aziraphale felt the exact moment in which Crowley started coming inside him. 

“Oh - I’m gonna - fuck-” Crowley sputtered out as he snapped his hips into Aziraphale forcefully; he came so hard he saw stars. Aziraphale took two firm handfuls of Crowley's arse and maneuvered his cock just a little bit deeper inside of him. 

“Ahhh, dammit. I wanted that to last longer.” Crowley shook his head sheepishly even as he was still pulsing a bit into Aziraphale. 

“Me and my mouth,” Aziraphale giggled. He wrapped a hand around the back of Crowley's neck and slowly licked Crowley's lip, then kissed him sloppily. 

“Did you...?” Crowley asked. 

“Oh, of course I did.” Aziraphale waved his hand dismissively. Crowley landed a few kisses on his shoulder and then slowly started to lower the angel to the ground. Aziraphale flushed a bit as Crowley pulled out. “I - Crowley?”

“Yes, Angel?” Crowley went to snap his fingers, probably to clean them both up, but Aziraphale stopped him. 

“I was uh, exaggerating a bit there, during our, intimacy.” Crowley arched a brow before putting his sunglasses and hat back on. 

“All right,” he said warily. 

“There weren’t dozens of others while you were, while you were asleep, you know. It was only one person. It was just such a long time and-” 

Crowley immediately felt an ache in his chest. “Look, I was gone -“ he held up a hand, gesturing to explain, when Aziraphale cut him off. 

“I was just so lonely,” Aziraphale said softly as he fiddled with his bow tie. “I missed you so terribly, I hope you won’t be gone again quite so long the next time, I’m not sure I can-” Crowley cut off his babbling, circling both arms around his waist and kissing him deeply. He pulled away and said nothing, just traced Aziraphale’s jaw tenderly with his fingers. “I hope we can-”

Crowley kissed him again, slower and more tenderly this time. “We can do anything you want. And I’m sorry.” He paused and cleared his throat “That I wasn’t here to give you what you need.” 

Aziraphale felt a bit of Crowley and a bit of himself running down the inside of his thigh, and suddenly his face was flushed, and he felt far too warm. “Ahh. Yes. Well, um. Do you think you’d be able to give me more of what I need? Now, that is? Or maybe not at this precise moment but hopefully, in a relatively timely fashion?”

Crowley was buttoning up his trousers when Aziraphale made his request. He slowly reached down between Aziraphale’s legs and felt the slick leaking out of him, then sank his teeth into Aziraphale’s neck and snapped the fingers of his other hand to transport them back to the bookshop. 

“Crowley, my dear,” Aziraphale clucked, “was that necessary?”

“Didn’t you need something, Angel,” he said as he reached two fingers deeper into Aziraphale’s cunt, pulled them out, licked them clean, then shoved them into Aziraphale’s mouth. “Maybe I can quiet you up a bit,” he said in a low voice, “so that dirty little mind of yours doesn’t stop me from giving you everything you need.” Crowley miracled off all of their clothing, and Aziraphale broke out into a radiant grin.


	5. Mayfair/Soho, 2006

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little phone sex never hurt anybody

Crowley was lounging around his flat when he heard a beeping sound coming from his desk drawer. Surely it wasn’t... Crowley opened the drawer to see the phone he’d purchased a few years back ringing. He’d only given this number out to one supernatural entity...

“Hello, you’ve reached the demonic hotline, here to satisfy your _every_ need.” Crowley drawled.

Aziraphale laughed. “Have I now?”

“You tell me, Angel.” Crowley expected Aziraphale to ask him to come over for a drink later, or perhaps to meet him for a walk in the park...

“All right.” Aziraphale paused. “Let me talk you off.”

“Let you... _what_?” Crowley croaked.

“You heard me.”

“Talk me off,” Crowley said incredulously, “where did you – who taught you that?”

Aziraphale huffed on the other end of the line. “No one_ taught_ me. Well, maybe a few videos I've seen here and there.”

Crowley felt himself stiffening in his trousers after only a few minutes spent talking with the angel and bit his lip. “So... you're serious then?”

“So serious,” Aziraphale said in a saucy, sensual voice Crowley hardly recognized.

“You want to talk me off, do you, Angel?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale moaned. With that, Crowley undid his trousers and began stroking himself over his pants.

“Okay. Sure.”

“Oh, oh, _Crowley_.” Aziraphale started by saying his name in a familiar way. He sighed and Aziraphale continued. “I know you recognize that, Crowley, _Crowley_ dear, because that's how I always say your name when you slide your cock into me for the first time,” Aziraphale said, then made a small noise of satisfaction Crowley had heard a thousand times before.

“Unnnnnf.” Crowley reached down and freed his cock from his pants. He was already fully hard after less than a minute of conversation with the angel. “Yeah, that's always how you say it.”

Aziraphale let out a low 'mmmm' and several audible gasps. “_Crowley_, it feels so good when you take your cock in your hand and you, when you just _push_ it right into me.”

Crowley worked his hand over the head of his cock and envisioned the moment Aziraphale was narrating. “Yeah?” he asked. “It feels good?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said. “Yes, yes, yes, it does.” Crowley smiled; a decade or so ago, he'd told Aziraphale that was his favorite thing to hear him say during sex and the angel had, as usual, thrown himself headlong into it. “It’s so good with you, Crowley, it’s always so good when you,” the angel stopped talking and reached down to touch himself, “mmm, when you're inside me, just starting to fuck me, and – ah – I love it, dear, I love it,” he said breathlessly.

Crowley bit back a choked cry as he heard the word on Aziraphale's lips; his cock jumped in his hand at the thought of hearing it in a different context. “Yeah, I know you do, Angel,” Crowley said, filling the endearment with all he could muster.

“I love it, Crowley, I love it when you’re inside me, when you’ve gotten me sopping wet,” Aziraphale had already said it – well, not _really_ \- and it wasn't like he could take it back, so he decided to run with it. “I love it when you fuck me so hard that your hips leave bruises on me. I never miracle them away, you know. I always let them stay.”

“How are you so good at this, I can't even-” Crowley panted, so hard he was aching. His mind was a few paces ahead of his body; the sound of Aziraphale's voice saying filthy things in his ear made him feel like he was already there. Crowley sped up the movements of his now-slick hand and used a bit of magic to keep his cell phone next to his ear without the aid of his shoulder.

“I love it when you give it to me, Crowley - ahh! You’ve got me so bothered, dear, I’m not sure I can take it much longer. You know what? I’m going to have to come over there and bend over that desk of yours so you can fuck me until I can’t _walk_.” Aziraphale was hard now, absentmindedly palming himself through his trousers and exaggerating his breaths and pants so Crowley could hear them. “I am going to beg you for it, Crowley, I need it, please - I am begging you, begging you to stuff me full and fuck me until I cannot say anything but your name, Crowley, Crowley, dear.” Aziraphale heard Crowley’s breathing coming faster and went in for the kill with a high-pitched keening noise he usually only made directly into Crowley's ear.

A few more strokes and Crowley was coming all over himself, crying out and throwing his head back in his throne. His ears were ringing to the point where he could barely hear Aziraphale.

“Crowley? Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, I'm fine,” Crowley said, his head spinning. “Just exploded all over my bloody hand, is all.”

Aziraphale laughed. A moment later Crowley heard the sound of his door opening, and sure enough, in walked the angel, with a truly wicked grin on his glowing face. Crowley lunged and tried to reach for a towel on the edge of the counter to wipe himself off, but he was not fast enough; Aziraphale knelt and began licking Crowley's spend off his cock, then moving to his hand, taking special time to work his tongue into all the spaces in between Crowley's fingers.

The view was too obscene even for Crowley, who covered his eyes with his hand as he felt himself starting to blush. “Jesus fucking Christ, Aziraphale,” he muttered to the sky as he felt the angel take his index and middle fingers into his mouth and suck them clean as though he'd never get another chance to do it.

“Oh my goodness! Crowley, you're absolutely delicious today,” the angel exclaimed as he turned Crowley's hand over, searching for spots he'd missed. Aziraphale's slurping noises started to have an effect on Crowley, who began hardening in the angel's hand despite the fact that he'd exploded all over his hand not five minutes ago. “Oh, lovely,” Aziraphale said. He took his mouth off Crowley's hand and looked up at the demon as he stroked himself through his trousers. “Do you think you could help me do something about this?” he asked, batting his eyelashes.

Crowley took his sunglasses off and raised his eyebrows. “Ahh, you’ve not got your usual configuration today, Angel?”

Aziraphale undid his bow tie as he stood up and set it on top of Crowley's desk. He winked at Crowley and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Well, you know. Always good to keep things exciting, isn't it?”

“Certainly,” Crowley said, reaching under Aziraphale's untucked shirt and fumbling for whatever fasteners were holding Aziraphale's trousers together. He didn't expect to find a dozen tiny buttons, but he went to work trying to undo them as quickly as he could. “Don't know why you can't wear something with a zipper every now and then,” the demon grumbled as he began peeling his skinny jeans off his slender legs.

“You're one to talk,” Aziraphale scoffed. “Those things are practically painted on you.” Crowley shot Aziraphale a glare as he took off his t-shirt and slung it on the ground. After what felt like ages, the angel was fully disrobed, his clothing folded neatly on the corner of Crowley's desk.

“Oh, that won't be necessary,” Aziraphale said. “I had a toy ten inches deep inside me just before I came over.”

“Did you now? Greedy thing, always needing more. Just can't get enough, can you, Angel?” Crowley said as he turned Aziraphale around and pushed him down so his torso was resting flat against his desk. He dropped to his knees and put his hands on Aziraphale's cheeks, gently spreading them apart so he could work his forked tongue around Aziraphale's rim and up inside him to feel that he was indeed, loose, wet, and open.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried out, pushing back further onto Crowley's tongue. Crowley gave him one more slow lick, then stood up and leaned all the way over Aziraphale. He stayed very still for a moment, his hard cock pressing up against the back of Aziraphale's thigh.

“Had to be sure you were ready. How do you want this?” Crowley purred into Aziraphale's ear.

“As I told you earlier, I want you to stuff me full,” Aziraphale said in a matter of fact tone.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Crowley paused, letting his hand come up to the top of Aziraphale's shoulder, and the angel turned his head to look at him. “Well. If that’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll get,” Crowley said quietly. Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley took his cock into his hand and started guiding himself slowly into Aziraphale, noting the details the angel had narrated earlier.

“This is what I was talking about earlier, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, as if reading his mind. Crowley had to pause and collect himself before continuing to push forward into Aziraphale's tight warmth. “Right-” Aziraphale angled his backside upwards and Crowley felt the head of his cock catch as it entered the angel, “like that, oh, _Crowley_, yes,” Aziraphale purred. Crowley could only hold back so much, and it wasn’t long before he was rocking into Aziraphale slowly but steadily, urged on by the angel’s pleading. He was making so much noise beneath Crowley, little satisfied 'ooh's and 'mmm's, punctuated with the occasional cry of pleasure, and Crowley swore he felt the vibrations of the angel’s voice more today than usual. He watched as the contours of Aziraphale’s body rippled and jiggled every time he slammed into him.

“Crowley, Crowley, please fill me up, Crowley,” Aziraphale said as Crowley was doing his best to fulfill his demands.

“I’m working on it, Angel,” Crowley growled as he grabbed firm handfuls of the soft flesh on the outside of Aziraphale’s hips, steadied himself, and started pistoning into the angel.

“Yes, Crowley, yes, that’s what they’re there for. Do you - ah! - do you know I invented the term ‘love handles’?”

Crowley quickened his pace; he knew if he kept hitting Aziraphale in the same spot that the angel could come untouched. “No, I -” he snuck in a quick breath, “-didn’t, know, that, Angel.” He closed his eyes and forced himself to focus.

“Ohh! Crowley, yes, yes, yes,” Crowley had finally hit the rhythm that made Aziraphale cry out in pleasure over, and over, and over; the angel shouted his name in varying volumes and inflections before letting out a shriek and starting to beg. “Crowley, please, harder – I can take it, Crowley, I want you to fuck me harder, please, make me feel it,” he said.

“Aziraphale, if you don’t quit running that mouth of yours...” Crowley warned. He was too distracted to be able to finish his thought, and it didn’t matter anyways; he knew Aziraphale was going to continue gabbing no matter what he said.

As predicted, the angel ignored Crowley's requests, as he was only one moment away from his own orgasm: “Fuck me harder, Crowley, harder, fill me up, please - I’m begging you, Crowley, please, fill me up, stuff me full – ahh – please, Crowley, Crowley, Crowley,” Aziraphale cried out his name on repeat like a broken record. Hearing Aziraphale beg was always the last straw for Crowley and today was no exception.

“How in the heavens,” Crowley groaned as he thrusted, and a moment later Aziraphale felt him coming, heat blooming inside him, “did an _angel_ end up with such a _filthy_ mouth, for fuck’s sake, Aziraphale, Aziraphale,” he cried out directly into Aziraphale’s ear as his hips scooted weakly forward a few more times. Crowley collapsed onto Aziraphale's back, sweaty and wrung out from two consecutive orgasms. After a few moments, Aziraphale stirred and began pushing himself up from the desk. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Crowley muttered as he quickly stood and offered his hand to the angel. He looked down and was relieved to see the mess Aziraphale had made all over his desk and floor.

“Oh, no need to apologize, dear, I'm the one who came all over your desk,” Aziraphale said nonchalantly as he took Crowley's hand. He cleaned up his mess with a wave and started leading Crowley back to his bedroom. “That was truly sublime.” He turned down the corner of Crowley's maroon comforter and climbed into the bed. Crowley stood awkwardly next to the bed, staring down, until Aziraphale patted the space next to him. “Well, don't just stand there, Crowley. Please.” Crowley did as he was told and slithered onto the bed, throwing his limbs over Aziraphale and allowing the angel to tuck his head of fluffy white hair under his chin. He was immediately rewarded with a little self-satisfied sigh from Aziraphale, who wiggled his warm, soft body up against him until they were as close as they could be.

Crowley ran his hand over Aziraphale's shoulder. “So, um, how are things?”

“Can't complain,” Aziraphale said. “Pretty much the same.” Crowley let out a low hum as Aziraphale began running his fingers through his crimson hair.

“That’s good,” Crowley said as he felt tingles from head to toe.

“Would you care to join me for dinner this evening, Crowley?”

The demon laughed. “Have I ever said no?”

“Well, I had to ask,” Aziraphale huffed. “It is early in the day, after all. I couldn’t be sure that you didn’t already have plans.” He pushed Crowley’s hair out of his eyes, and the demon met his gaze with those brilliant yellow eyes.

“No plans.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Hmm.”

Crowley tilted his head to the side and ran his teeth over the corner of his lip. “And if you were about to ask me if I had plans for the rest of the day-“ he said, rolling over on top of Aziraphale and steadying himself on his arms before the angel interrupted him.

“I was going to see if you might be amenable,” Aziraphale said, running his hands down to grasp Crowley’s arse.

“-the answer is that I do,” Crowley said as he relaxed his arms, sending his body down to drape all over the angel’s. He ran a hand through Aziraphale’s downy hair and kissed him.

“What are those plans?” Aziraphale asked while Crowley began nipping at his earlobes, his neck, his jaw.

“I’m going to see how many times I can come inside you before I take you out to dinner,” Crowley said in a low voice.

“You - what!” Aziraphale gasped. Crowley silenced the rest of Aziraphale’s surprised sounds by covering the angel’s mouth with his own.


	6. The Bookshop, London, two and a half weeks after the Averted Apocalypse, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey! it's finally done. thanks for staying along for this fun ride. I had a great time writing this and really appreciated all the lovely comments. I'm in the middle of a few longer fics and it feels good to finish this one out to have more space for prompts & one-shots (don't hesitate to bother me on twitter @orchidlocked or on Tumblr if there's something you'd like to see me write, I love prompts and love writing what people want to see). okay! here's the bonus. hope you enjoy <3

Two and a half weeks after the averted Apocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley had never felt so good. They'd enabled the world and all its human (and ethereal) stories to continue on. And, after six millennia of getting bossed around by their respective employers, they each found a certain satisfaction in telling their immediate supervisors to get stuffed, in their own special way.

And the sex; holy Hell, the _sex_. They’d had a bittersweet but incredible desperation fuck the night they’d taken the bus back to London. Aziraphale had done his best to remain hopeful. Crowley was sure it was a lost cause. And as they’d held each other close in Crowley’s bed, in what they both assumed to be their last time, it was Aziraphale who’d had the idea to give the body swap a try.

“It couldn’t hurt,” the angel had said, quietly, into the warm crook of Crowley’s neck. Crowley had made a familiar noise, a groan that ended in a question, and then they’d given it a try. While Crowley had truly enjoyed his time occupying Aziraphale’s plush, soft form, he hadn’t in six thousand years thought it wold work. But it had; the world gone on spinning with all its lovely little restaurants and its books and the Bentley and houseplants. Aziraphale and Crowley had met in the park like everything was normal, swapped back into their own bodies, and spent a delightful afternoon regaling each other with stories from their successful outwitting of both Heaven and Hell.

After their celebratory meal at the Ritz, Crowley had followed Aziraphale to the bookshop and eaten him out through a half dozen orgasms before taking the angel tenderly in his arms and stroking his fluffy hair until the dawn of a new day. Then, forty-eight hours later, Aziraphale had come over, frantically waving some sort of letter in his face. Crowley didn’t even have a chance to read what it said before Aziraphale tossed him to the floor and rode his cock so intensely for so long, Crowley feared it might fall off. Later in the evening, Aziraphale had explained that Heaven had demoted him from a Principality to a regular old angel, meaning that he would be left unbothered except in the event of another Apocalypse. Crowley’s side was so terrified of what they perceived as his newfound power that they’d pretended the whole thing never happened. They were both finally free to do as they pleased, and it turned out that what they pleased was to spend their days and nights deep inside each other. Crowley wasn’t getting tired of it; he’d never get tired of being able to touch Aziraphale whenever he liked, to wake up next to his angel, roll over and begin kissing and nibbling on the soft skin of Aziraphale’s neck. Or thighs. Or anything, really. No, Crowley was certainly not bored by any means. But, today, he was feeling like switching things up a bit. He always enjoyed surprising Aziraphale; Crowley cooked up a plan for the day and headed out to get a few things sorted.

A few minutes before seven, Crowley strutted into the bookshop wearing a black jumpsuit and a large golden snake necklace. He’d treated himself to a high-end salon blowout and had even done his nails. (Black, of course. But this time, with sparkles). Aziraphale got one look at the demon and promptly stumbled directly into the table, knocking over the display he’d been working on.

“You all right there, Angel?” Crowley flashed Aziraphale a shit eating grin as he approached, his hands in the pockets of his jumpsuit, his long legs choosing each foot fall deliberately.

“Fine, lovely, I’m doing wonderfully, dear, it’s just,” Aziraphale reached for his handkerchief and dabbed his forehead, “you’ve never worn anything quite like this before.” He took in the oxblood lipstick and noticed that Crowley had tidied up his brows a bit as well.

Crowley circled Aziraphale in a familiar posture, his hands behind his back. He was wearing heels, Aziraphale realized, as the demon was a good four inches taller than normal. “Nonsense. You remember that one August. You know. The time we got two months holiday from the Dowling’s?”

“Oh...” Aziraphale did remember, “you’re right. Well, you look absolutely gorgeous, Crowley. Stunning as always,” he said, reaching out and curling his fingers around Crowley’s slender forearm. Aziraphale kissed the back of Crowley’s hand gallantly and caught a whiff of a delightful scent radiating off of his pulse point; of course, Crowley was wearing the perfume Aziraphale had gotten him a few years back. It had been something terribly expensive, peonies and carnations over clove and musk. It smelled slightly different every time Crowley wore it, but always complimented the demon.

“We still on for dinner?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale realized he was still holding Crowley's hand against his face.

“Yes, goodness. I nearly forgot. Give me a moment to, ah, grab a jacket.” Aziraphale rushed upstairs, then back down, sporting a dressy blazer he only wore for special occasions.

The restaurant was near the bookshop, close enough that they could walk, as they'd done many times over the years. The angel insisted on taking the outer side of the sidewalk and held his arm so Crowley could rest his hand in the crook of Aziraphale’s elbow, and once they arrived, Aziraphale made a show of holding the door for Crowley and pulling out his chair once they were at their table. He insisted the sommelier offer Crowley a taste of each wine and waited patiently for Crowley's approval before ordering. The meal was delightful and leisurely; they polished off several bottles of wine between them and the wait staff made no effort to hurry them along. Aziraphale tried to eat, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Crowley nibbling his way through a vegetable dish that resembled architecture more than food.

“What are you going to have for dessert, Angel?” Crowley asked, eyebrow raised, graceful hands reaching for his wine.

“I think I’m about done here, actually,” Aziraphale said, placing his napkin on the table and nodding politely to the waiter. Crowley tried to snatch the bill away from Aziraphale and was thwarted by a slap against his wrist. “You always pay.” Aziraphale shot Crowley a glare and passed over a card to their waiter. Crowley fussed a bit, but he didn’t mind; it reminded him of the monthly ritual they had when they’d been living at the Dowling’s. Aziraphale had insisted on taking him out on their weekend off and treating Nanny Ashtoreth to lunch and a trip to Herrod’s. Crowley usually conjured up clothes for himself, but he’d kept every garment Aziraphale had ever bought him. He smiled; he was wearing one of Aziraphale’s gifts under his jumpsuit: a black and pink lace lingerie set covered in embroidered apple blossoms. Crowley’s thoughts were interrupted by a tap on his shoulder; he looked up to see Aziraphale standing next to him, perfectly manicured hand extended to help Crowley up from his chair. Crowley took the angel’s hand and caught a glimpse of the tent in Aziraphale’s tan trousers as he stood.

It was a short walk back to the shop, (too short, really, it should have taken twelve minutes and it only took four); Aziraphale did his best to make Crowley laugh so he could watch the demon throw his head back and flip his copper hair around. No sooner had they walked into the bookshop than Aziraphale grabbed Crowley by his narrow shoulders and pinned him against a pillar.

“You sinful fiend,” Aziraphale said before bringing his hips flush with Crowley’s and kissing him desperately, “did you think I didn’t notice you eyeing my trousers as we left the restaurant?” Crowley laughed, and before he could respond, Aziraphale kissed him again, deep and frantic. “Do you really think you can lure me into such indulgences, demon?” He took off Crowley's sunglasses and tossed them on the floor.

“Hey now!” To his credit, Crowley was really turning up the tempting tonight. He wasn't beholden to Hell anymore, but all that demonic energy had to go somewhere. “Wouldn’t be a very good demon if I didn’t at least try to tempt an angel every now and again, would I?” he asked in a slightly husky voice.

Aziraphale could no longer continue the charade and began stripping Crowley’s clothes off him. He gasped when Crowley’s black jumpsuit slid off his body to reveal a delicate lace lingerie set he’d recognize anywhere. The one with the apple blossoms… Aziraphale gasped.

“You kept this?” the angel asked, awed. He’d had to use every power of persuasion short of a miracle to get this in Crowley’s size. The only set left was on the mannequin; the salesgirl at Herrod’s had refused to take it off, citing ‘management’ and ‘store policy’ and then ‘we can try to put it on hold for you, sir, if you’d like.’ Aziraphale had nearly blown a gasket, but in the end, he'd ended up with the lingerie for Crowley, wrapped up with tissue paper in a glossy black box.

“Course I did,” Crowley purred.

“Oh, darling, you-” Aziraphale decided mid-sentence that his mouth would be better put to use by sucking a mark into the freckled hollow of Crowley’s throat. He hit a particularly sensitive spot and Crowley gripped at the angel's shoulders as his knee buckled; one of his platform heels had given out. Aziraphale caught him instantly and a moment later, he found himself upstairs in his bed, atop Crowley, both of them disrobed save for Crowley's lace bra.

“That's cheating,” Aziraphale said playfully as he brushed his fingers over Crowley's nipple.

“Didn't think you'd mind.” Crowley hooked a leg around Aziraphale's back and oh, Heavens, it had only been a few days since they'd done this, but Aziraphale was already hard and hungry for it. Then Crowley's delicate fingers came up to his face, stroking his cheeks, his brow, his lips, and Aziraphale was suddenly overwhelmed, flooded, by the intimacy of it all. No more looking over their shoulders, no one to stop them, no more reasons why not, no more _excuses_...

“Let me make love to you,” Aziraphale murmured, his inhibitions lowered by the wine and the irresistible smell wafting off of Crowley’s smooth, sleek hair. The angel’s mouth went dry as he watched Crowley react to his request, his gleaming eyes going completely yellow, his slit pupils dilating to large oval black pools. “I mean, I’m - let me, ah, I would like to-“

Crowley, smelling of clove, peony, cinnamon, smoke, and something sharp, green, and freshly-cut, put his hand on the back of Aziraphale’s neck, stroked his fingers through Aziraphale’s downy soft hair, and kissed him deeply. He draped his arms over Aziraphale's shoulders, then leaned back into the pillow to make eye contact with the angel again. “Oh, Angel. You know,” Crowley fumbled for the words, “you’ve got to know I love you, yeah?” He felt far more naked than he actually was. “I always assumed you could, you know, feel it, and...” Crowley trailed off. Aziraphale looked down at the spray of Crowley’s shiny copper hair on the pillow and the oxblood lipstick that had somehow stayed perfectly in place.

Aziraphale’s eyes shimmered with the tears that threatened to spill out of them. “I’m – oh, _dearest_ \- I can’t say that I did know that,” he said in a stunned voice, softer than a whisper.

“Well, then. Now you know.” Crowley grinned wickedly, baring the slightest of fangs, and guided Aziraphale’s hand to the slick warmth between his legs. Aziraphale let out a deep moan, a mix of the delightful sounds he made when Crowley was deep inside him and when his own tongue was involved in a culinary delight. The angel rolled over onto his side and Crowley opened his legs up wider for him; oh, good Lord, Aziraphale could barely focus when Crowley got like this.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, gently slipping his fingers inside Crowley, “you’re so very wet, my dear.” He brought his fingers up to his lips, put them inside his mouth, sucked them completely clean, then carefully slid them back inside Crowley and repeated the process until the demon’s thighs began twitching in the telltale way that meant he was close to coming. Then Aziraphale kept a steady pace; he continued circling Crowley’s clit until Crowley bucked under his touch and cried out in pleasure, spasming over Aziraphale’s fingers and digging his nails into the angel’s upper arms.

“Oh, fuck,” Crowley groaned into Aziraphale’s neck. The angel kept moving his fingers steadily until Crowley pushed his hand away. “Too much, too much,” Crowley said, gasping. Aziraphale held his hand still over Crowley's lower abdomen until the demon stopped shaking.

“All right now?” Aziraphale asked, pressing kisses into Crowley's hair.

“All right?” Crowley barked out a laugh. “Doing a hell of a lot better than 'all right,' Angel.” He kissed Aziraphale hungrily, then rolled over onto his back, pulling the angel atop him again and running his black, sparkly fingernails down the soft expanse of Aziraphale's back.

“Good Lord, darling, you feel absolutely incredible.” Aziraphale shivered as Crowley wriggled beneath him; his cock was already leaking all over Crowley's angular torso.

“I'm about to. Come on, do it,” Crowley begged, wiggling his hips upward towards Aziraphale.

“Well, I have to make sure you’re ready, dear,” Aziraphale said, running his cockhead up and down against Crowley’s slick folds. Crowley, who by this point was tired of waiting, grabbed Aziraphale’s thick cock at the base and started stuffing it inside himself.

“I’m way past ready, Angel, come on,” Crowley purred, placing a hand on Aziraphale’s arse and guiding the angel deeper into him.

“All right, my dear boy, as you wish.” Aziraphale rolled his hips forward until he bottomed out inside Crowley; he let out a truly sinful moan as he felt the pressure and slick heat all around him. He met Crowley's eyes, paused, silently asking, 'okay?' until Crowley nodded and hooked his other leg up behind Aziraphale's back. The angel pulled out until the head of his cock started to catch, then pushed all the way back in. As he began to steadily thrust into Crowley, the demon let loose an absolutely filthy screed the likes of which Aziraphale had never heard.

“Oh, yes, Angel, yes, dammit, Angel, I love your cock. Have I told you that? Mmm, oh my fucking God, your _cock_, Aziraphale, it's so good. Fuck me, fill me up,” Crowley babbled as he arched his back up, pressing his torso closer to Aziraphale.

“My dear boy, is it really necessary for you to..._ talk_ like that?” Aziraphale asked as he paused and gritted his teeth.

“Well, I may be retired, but I’m still a demon,” Crowley scoffed, hooking his ankles around Aziraphale’s back, “I’ll curse if I damn well please.” He raised his eyebrows as if to say, get on with it.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Sometimes you are just,” he said, resuming his movements inside Crowley.

“Oh, yeah,” Crowley undulated his body in the manner that only someone who spent time as a serpent could do. “Oh, Angel,” he growled, his low voice resonating all through his body, into Aziraphale's where they were connected, “yesss, oh, fuck, come on, fuck me harder, give me your cock, put your back into it, will you? I wanna feel it tomorrow.”

Aziraphale looked down at Crowley with an expression of righteous indignation only an angel could pull off and grabbed Crowley’s hips. “If that’s what you want,” he muttered, driving himself as deep into Crowley as he could. Oh god, Aziraphale was strong; Crowley always forgot how strong he was, as he didn’t often feel like showing it off. Especially not quite like this, with his bollocks slapping up against Crowley with every thrust and his soft, deceptively muscular hands digging into Crowley’s iliac crests.

Crowley threw his head back and wailed. “Yes, fuck, oh my g- fuck, Angel, I want you,” followed by a long string of high-pitched shrieks, moans, and other assorted sounds of pleasure.

Aziraphale took a slow, steadying breath which wasn't as effective as he'd hoped it would be. His hips came to a stuttering halt. “Crowley, I'm afraid I'm going to -” Crowley clenched tighter around Aziraphale and the angel gritted his teeth.

“You're going to what, Angel? Are you already close? Are you going to come?” Crowley’s tone was mocking, yet playful and utterly full of fondness. Aziraphale closed his eyes and tried desperately to focus, but Crowley did not let up.

“I can feel you in there, you know. Your cock is shaking like it’s ready to blow. So are you? Are you gonna explode inside me? Gonna fill me up until you’ll be dripping out of me for the next three days?” Aziraphale froze, groaned, then came, shuddering and making a face like a broken ventriloquist dummy. Crowley tried not to laugh, really he did, but he couldn't help himself. “Ahh – you don't know how long I've wanted to do that,” Crowley said, his entire body shaking as he laughed, his cunt somehow continuing to tighten around Aziraphale's cock.

“You... wicked... serpent...” Aziraphale muttered, with one last feeble thrust as he spilled inside Crowley.

“Serves you right for all those years,” Crowley said as he landed a playful smack on Aziraphale's backside. “Not so easy to keep it together, is it?” He could still feel Aziraphale’s cock pulsing inside him, then warmth beginning to drip down out of him. As he’d requested.

“Dammit, Crowley.” Aziraphale slumped over onto Crowley, his sweat-slick chest heaving as he landed sloppy kisses onto Crowley’s perfumed neck. “Downright _diabolical_.”

“We'll see how much longer you can last next go round, eh?” Crowley was still laughing, and Aziraphale had a slightly sour look on his face. “Oh, come on. I’m only teasing.” He poked Aziraphale gently in the side.

“Hey! Stop that!” Aziraphale exclaimed as he rolled off Crowley, wrapping an arm around the demon and pulling him onto his side in the process. He wrapped his arms around Crowley’s lower back and snuggled as close to the demon as possible. Crowley tucked his head under Aziraphale’s chin, and the angel breathed in the spicy, warm scent radiating off the top of his head. Aziraphale brought his hand up to stroke Crowley’s lovely freckled back and the demon pushed him over onto his back so he could drape himself over Aziraphale’s soft form.

“Whatever you’re thinking about, you ought to just say it,” Crowley muttered into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck.

“Did you mean what you said? Earlier, when we were...?”

Crowley propped himself up on an elbow. “Of course I did.” His expression was instantly serious, concerned, entirely focused on Aziraphale. As always. And that was when Aziraphale lost his angelic composure and began to cry, huge heaving sobs into where Crowley’s hair fell against his neck.

“Oh, Angel, oh no, what’s - what did I do?” Crowley asked, panicked. “I was just messing around when we were, uhh, you know, when I was talking all... like that. Aziraphale, I love you, I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to.” Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and stroked the nape of his neck. “Angel? Are you okay? I was just teasing you, I’m-”

“Not that, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, finally looking up at the demon.

“Oh. Oh. That.” Crowley understood. “Yeah.” There was a long pause, in which Crowley thought Aziraphale might speak; when he didn't, Crowley continued on. “I’ve loved you the whole time. I-” he averted his eyes, feeling truly exposed, “-I really thought you knew.”

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale placed a soft hand on Crowley’s cheek and looked at him as though he were something truly precious. “I also love you.” Aziraphale felt the tremor in Crowley's body as the word landed. “So very much. Crowley, you are so very, _very_ dear to me. I treasure you.” Crowley grinned and let his hand wander down to Aziraphale's stomach, the crest of his hips.

“Well. That's the best news I've heard in ages.” Crowley licked his lips and Aziraphale caught a glimpse of his forked tongue.

“You look like you're plotting something, love.”

“Might be. Just thinking.”

“What about?”

“Well, we've got a lot of time on our hands now, it seems.”

Aziraphale hummed. “Oh, yes. I suppose we do. Though I can't say I've grown tired of how we've been choosing to spend it so far.” He smiled wickedly and brought Crowley’s hand down between his legs, where there was now a familiar thatch of soft white hair and a delightful slickness coating the demon's fingers.

“Bored already, are you?” Crowley teased, tossing a leg over Aziraphale.

“Oh, not at all, dearest, just seems I might get more pleasure this way. No... downtime, as it were.” Aziraphale angled his body so he could pull Crowley a bit closer to him, and slowly slipped his fingers back into Crowley's cunt, still open and wet for him.

Crowley laughed softly. “My Angel, my very own Angel, he just can't ever get enough.”

“Mmm... no, my sweet, I fear I'll never get enough of you.” Aziraphale settled into the bed with an expression Crowley knew well: the 'we're going to be doing this all night' face. How the Hell he'd managed to end up so lucky, Crowley would never know.

“Your wish is my command,” Crowley said, curling his fingers upwards inside Aziraphale.

“That's it, dear boy, look at how sopping wet I am, look at what a _mess_ you've made of me already.” And there it was. Aziraphale started running that mouth of his, and Crowley knew he was in for it. “I'm not letting you out of this bed until you've made me come at least a dozen times. Perhaps once I've gotten you off a second time, you can stick your face in my cunt and suck me until I've had my fill. Which probably won't be until this bed is soaked, right to the core. Or maybe until your jaw cramps up. Or maybe this evening is ripe for exploration, like finding out the best way for me to ride your face for a few hours. I hope that forked tongue of yours is up to the task, dear, because frankly, I'm on _fire_. Need a good licking to put me out.”

“Holy fucking_ shit_, Aziraphale, your mouth,” Crowley croaked; he tried – he really did - to come up with a witty, sassy response, but all he could manage was a deep moan of pleasure as Aziraphale's deft fingers kept working their magic inside him.


End file.
